Rainy days

Your eyes are so beautiful

Grey with flecks of silver and glimpses of blue

So kind and sincere

When I look into them

I imagine the sky after a good long storm

Grey clouds slowly dissipating

To reveal blue skies

And warmer days

Optimistic eyes

Thank you

I thought I’d leave you a little note to read as you wake up. You are an amazing man Michael and I have gotten more than I could have ever dreamed of from this new stage in our relationship. I feel so loved, safe and cared for. I love how we motivate each other and how every emotion feels reciprocated, honestly and openly. I can’t thank you enough for everything you do and for letting me in.

Jolielaide

Maya Angelou said that when someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them. It’s true, manner and civility matter; no need to ignore worse yet, accept bad behavior, excusing those red flags, giving the benefit of the doubt. If someone is going to treat someone poorly. There’s a good chance they’ll go it again.

Truth

Saw an old friend today who reminded me of who I am. He said you’re smart and you’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re driven and you’re clever. I wondered to myself why clever was not the same as smart. He said you’re clever because you know how to get what you want but you’re settling for scraps because you don’t think you deserve the best. He said it frustrates me to see you after all these years not getting what you deserve not being loved by somebody and cherished.

I stood on the edge yesterday.

Contemplating if it was worth it to live

Or if I was ready to say goodbye.

Was it a life I wanted?

Was there more?

Or was this it.

I walked away

Lived another day

But that cliff keeps calling me back

Work

Watching people work can be a magical thing. You learn a new side of someone. The professional them. A person with restraint in sake of a paycheck. You see the way theY read people. The judgment on their face.

They’re are more cautious. More subtle in their movements. They sometimes take on a whole new tone.

It’s the little things

They way a lover would bite my shoulder

As he fucked me deep from behind

Or how I’d ride him

As his tongue was in mouth

Using my wet holes

Making them even wetter

Mannerisms

There was once a boy who I’d go dancing with. He would ring me when he got to my house and always he’d be waiting outside his car to open the door for me. We’d hug and then he’d take a step back to look me up and down. “Damn baby” he’d say. Putting his hand under his chin, slowly taking me in. Contemplating the way he’d take my clothes off later.

Hands

I miss your touch.

A hand placed precariously above my butt when we’re waiting somewhere

Not caring if anyone’s looking as you give me a little squeeze

A casual arm draped acrosss my back, hand on my hip

The way you’d pull me in closer by my waist

My head on your shoulder sitting at restaurants

You once said you never liked it when I sat across from you at a table

Because my beauty was too far away to touch

Cupping my chin when you needed my kisses

Then moving lower to clutch my neck

Long car rides gripping my thigh

Getting closer inbetween

A thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of my neck

And then pulling a handful of my hair

A slap on the ass when I’d make you laugh

Followed by a kiss

There was never a time where I wasn’t smiling if you were touching me. Except for that last hug.

A dream

I woke up and wiped the mascara from under my eyes.

Still wearing last nights party dress

I rolled over to reach for a glass of water

Landing my arm across a chest strong and muscular

Suddenly remembering

Little flashes

Strobing lights

Dancing bodies

Tequilas shots